


the things I've lost

by Makisol



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Denial of Feelings, M/M, Pining, Solari Sett, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27236365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makisol/pseuds/Makisol
Summary: It can be quite fascinating the thin line that divides love and hatred. Those like Sett who play this game for far too long, always end up in one extreme or the other; there’s no place for middle-ground.
Relationships: Aphelios/Sett (League of Legends)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	the things I've lost

**Author's Note:**

> While working on ch3 of wws I got inspired by [this amazing artwork](https://twitter.com/yellowestmango/status/1316033032172732419) who happens to be one of my favorite tropes: enemies to lovers AND sun and moon dynamics :3c

A single ray of light illuminates the otherwise cold and dark cave. Its energy travels under his skin; across every nerve in his body and the tingling sensation burns the tip of his fingers. The heat is the strongest on the hand which holds his spear, the weapon blessed by the priests when he became a Solari warrior.

The low grunt under him does nothing to worry him. His ears keenly pointed at the man below him and his eyes are glued to his face, making sure he isn’t surprised by one of his tricks. Lunari assassins are well-known for their elusive nature—especially  _ this _ one. Too many times he’s made a fool of Sett’s attempts to capture him, slipping right through his fingers; Sett would argue that he’s always been an inch away from catching him, but that couldn’t be further away from the truth.

Deep down, he painfully admits that Aphelios is the one foe he can’t defeat.

Today is different, however, as he finds those pitch-black eyes full of rage looking back at him. Sett presses his foot harder against Aphelios’ chest and he only scrunches his nose in annoyance. It’s quiet, too, he’s not accompanied by that unnerving voice that Sett is sure must be a demon using him to do his bidding.

Aphelios grips Sett’s leg, trying to pull it off his body but they both know he’s not going anywhere. The spear’s tip is a breath away from his neck. This is Sett’s first victory, after countless losses that have driven him restless every night. From now on, he’ll never fall for Aphelios’ clever gimmicks ever again.

“Where are all your fancy guns?” he says, with a victorious grin from cheek to cheek. “Comin’ here unarmed, I guess you’re just that desperate to die.”

He’s not surprised to hear nothing in return. He bends his body downwards,  _ closer,  _ carefully making sure the weight of his body isn’t crushing Aphelios to the ground. The mane covering his shoulder plate on his right arm is pulled down, creating a curtain that blocks the Sun’s light from touching Aphelios’ face.

The shadows have always made Aphelios look  _ more  _ beautiful.

“Or did you think you could still beat me without ‘em, you cocky bastard?” He digs the spear next to his face, barely missing the strands of hair spread on the floor. “You’re done for, there’s no miracle that will get you outta this.” Sett now is just waiting for his surrender, so he can put an end to this nightmare. Aphelios takes a second to look him in the eye, anger slowly vanishing from his expression.

His smile is a challenge.

One that starts with a hand gently touching his cheek.

The leather of his gloves should be a cold, but it’s not. The look of his eyes should be spiteful, but it isn’t.

Sett’s sense of reason is nothing but a noise in the background. Aphelios fingers are scared, shy. He’s tracing his jaw, leaving nothing but a blazing trail behind them. It’s hypnotizing, the pointed stare of his eyes. Aphelios has always had a sharp and cold gaze, one always directed at him; he never really expected to be on the receiving end of his adoration. Sett closes his eyes, he has a hunch that if he looks at him any longer, he’ll go crazy. The soft touches on his face travel up his hairline. Without being asked, he keeps leaning into his touch.

He hears Aphelios let out a soft breath, his ears pulled towards the sound as if they had strings. He can’t resist to take a peek, and when their eyes meet again, Aphelios flushed face and his gentle smile seem like they’ve been pulled out from one of his dreams.

Too many of those nights when he laid awake, Sett had been fighting a different adversary: his preposterous admiration for his Lunari rival. Of how many times he was captivated by his unorthodox combat, of looking into his eyes and wishing he could kiss those lips; to hold him under the morning Sun and watch its light trace every inch of his body.

As Aphelios pulls him by the harness around his chest with his other hand, he realizes maybe it’s not that much of a far-fetched fantasy.

He moves his leg away from Aphelios’ chest, finally surrendering to his touch. Aphelios has the audacity to look surprised, but his quiet chuckle is reward enough. Sett keeps his knees at either side of his body, letting Aphelios bring him as close as he wants to. He can almost hear his breathing like this, and both hands knead through his hair, timid grazes along his ears.

Then it all suddenly stops, and instead both hands cup his face between them.

“What—” Aphelios presses a finger to his mouth before he can muster another word.

That same finger outlines the shape of his lips, and ever so softly, brushing the scar that extends across them. Aphelios looks up and the question is plain as day.

You could say Sett is a hopeless fool, when he closes his eyes and expects Aphelios take the lead. It’s torture, the way he takes his damn time, getting closer, so very  _ close  _ that he grips the spear for dear life, knowing it’s the only thing keeping him from handing Aphelios control over him as he pleases. Despite everything he still holds a bit of his pride.

It’s that side of him that should’ve seen this coming.

The kick on his stomach and the flip that brings him to the ground. Sett yelps in pain when Aphelios twist his arm behind his back, and kicks the spear out of his reach.

“You  _ filthy _ rat,” he says, his voice breaks but the growl rumbling deep in his throat hides it pretty well, and the animalistic rage that fills his chest overshadows the shame that grows bigger with each second.

Sett frees himself from his hold—it’s easy for him, it’s always been—and he thinks that this newfound resentment will  _ finally  _ allow him to hurt him for real and kill him like he’s been trained his whole life for.

But he can’t.

“Come back here, you chickenshit!” He runs after him, but Aphelios dodges each blow Sett takes at him. “I don’t need a weapon either to  _ kick _ your ass.”

They reach the entrance of the cave, right below a broken stone staircase. Aphelios jumps towards a wall, using one foot to propel himself upwards. Right as Sett catches up with him, Aphelios steps on his chest and the momentum sends Sett straight to the ground, but Aphelios only gets further up. 

He flees without looking back. 

He takes with him Sett’s fury and, why not, his dignity as well, as he claims what Sett believes to be the greatest victory of all.

By the time Sett is on his feet, Aphelios is long gone. His heart aches, longs, foolishly clinging to the touch that he only ever dreamed to experience. A scary thought, one he couldn’t pretend to ignore anymore. He was handing himself over on a silver platter and one of these days it’s gonna get him killed.

After today, though, if Aphelios ever uses  _ that _ against him again, he’s not so sure he’ll survive it. And may the Sun forgive his sinful trail of thought, as he realizes he’s not sure he wants to fight it anyway.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm too deep into the "name things after songs" concept so...... today i bring you....... Lost on You by LP
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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